Lewis Wetzel hunted Indians as most men hunt the deer and buffalo. He looked upon the red man as legitimate game, and many a time has he slung his rifle over his shoulder and plunged into the woods for the express purpose of bringing down one of the race against which he had vowed eternal vengeance.
Numerous of his barbarous exploits must remain unrecorded, and well would it be could the necessity never arise for a history of any of them, for they do not show the character of an undoubtedly brave man in an attractive light.
Late one autumn he started out on one of his sanguinary hunts and directed his steps toward the Muskingum River. He had not tramped long when he discovered a camp where four Indians had established themselves for the winter. Not dreaming of any danger, the red men, contrary to their custom, had not taken their usual precautions, and kept neither watch nor sentinels.
This was a tempting opportunity, but a single white hunter, no matter how daring and skillful, might well hesitate before attacking four athletic and well-armed warriors; but the hesitation of Lewis Wetzel was caused only by the necessity for reflecting on the best course to be pursued.
He decided to make his attack on the four in the dead of night when all were sound asleep. He therefore waited patiently in the gloom until he saw they were wrapped in profound slumber. Then he stole forward, and with his dreadful knife, dispatched three in quick succession, but the fourth darted into the woods and escaped in the darkness.
It was near Wheeling, while he was engaged on one of his numerous scouts, that he came upon a deserted cabin. It was raining at the time, and he was glad to use the place as a shelter. A few pieces of boards were gathered together in the loft and used as a bed, but before he fell asleep, six Indians entered and started a fire, with a view of preparing their evening meal.
Had the scout been asleep when they entered they would have been certain to discover him by his heavy breathing, and as it was, Wetzel scarcely saw how he could escape detection. So he grasped his knife and held himself ready for the desperate encounter which was certain to follow such a discovery.
The Indians, however, did not dream of the presence of the human tiger that was glaring down upon them from the loft above, and soon the half dozen were unconscious in sleep. Feeling that his quarters were dangerous, Wetzel cautiously stole out during the darkness and hid himself behind a log which commanded the front of the cabin.
In the morning the first warrior who presented himself at the door was shot dead. Before the others could comprehend what had taken place the murderer was fleeing like a deer through the woods, and was soon safe from all danger of pursuit.
Such exploits as these increased the popularity of Wetzel, while the attempts made by General Harmar to punish him for his crimes deepened the dislike felt toward him for what was regarded as his unjust persecution of a worthy man.